


I Will Keep My Promise, You Will Not Be Left Alone

by Bisexual_Bean



Series: Stained Hands, Pink Water [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Basically how Damian finds Tim, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is a Better Parent Than Bruce Wayne, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, I'm a sucker for Parent!Dick, If I see anyone shipping we are going to have ISSUES, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Prequal? Prequal., Protective Damian Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Suicide Attempt, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Whump, Tim Drake is Not Okay, and no one can take that away from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 06:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30085053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexual_Bean/pseuds/Bisexual_Bean
Summary: Why was Damian here?The polished wood of Drake's door stared back at him, scowl set deep in his features. He had been standing there for well over 5 minutes, an internal fight between knocking or just breaking down the door waging in his chest.Like Drake would open the door for you.Damian thought for another full minute, resisting the urge to twist the toe of his shoe into the carpet under his feet. Pennyworth had sent him on a mission to retrieve Drake for a family dinner, and he knows the man would not be pleased if he were to return empty handed.It took him less than 30 seconds to pick the lock.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Series: Stained Hands, Pink Water [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896937
Comments: 4
Kudos: 177





	I Will Keep My Promise, You Will Not Be Left Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequal to my 'Stained Hands, Pink Water'. You do not need to read the others to enjoy this one, but I would appreciate it!  
> *Trigger warning for those of you sensitive to material involving suicide and suicide attempts.  
> Take care of yourselves

Why was Damian here?

The polished wood of Drake's door stared back at him, scowl set deep in his features. He had been standing there for well over 5 minutes, an internal fight between knocking or just breaking down the door waging in his chest.

_Like Drake would open the door for you._

Damian thought for another full minute, resisting the urge to twist the toe of his shoe into the carpet under his feet. Pennyworth had sent him on a mission to retrieve Drake for a family dinner, and he knows the man would not be pleased if he were to return empty handed.

It took him less than 30 seconds to pick the lock.

_What lacking security. I will have to tell Father to have a word with him, lest an enemy discovers Drakes identity and puts all of us at risk with his foolish behavior._

Inside the apartment, Damian found a complete disaster. Mugs, some still containing remanence of what he thinks might have been coffee or some form of energy drink, cluttered the counters. Trash was piled up around the trash bin, half empty take out dishes scattered across the floor and coffee table. There were still remnants of a first aid kit sitting on one end of the couch, a needle and thread looped yet unused, a roll of bandages that had tumbled off of the couch and had unraveled across the floor to the other end of the living room. Even Drake's laundry was piled in clumps, taking over any spare corners.

_Of course Drake couldn't pick up after himself. Pennyworth would be ashamed._

Damian sighed, side-stepped an old pizza box on the floor next to the kitchen island, "Drake, I demand your attention."

Silence.

He huffed. Damian knew the teen was home, had watched him walk by the window of his living room before Damian had entered the apartment building. His car was still parked in the underground parking lot, and as far as Damian knew, all of Drake's meta friends were busy in an off-world mission.

"Drake," He cleared his throat again, eyes scanning the abandoned bedroom, bedsheets rumpled thrown over the edge of the bed. His nightstand was covered in case files, "Pennyworth and Grayson have both sent you several invitations to tonight's dinner and you have yet to respond to any of them. I have been sent to retrieve you, as they would not be pleased by your absence. I will not return home empty handed."

Another long silence stretched on, and Damian was just about ready to turn on his heel, return home, and claim that the teen had not been home. But then there was the slight shifting of water to his left, and Damian took notice of the bathroom door slightly ajar, pale light seeping through the crack.

An unpleasant feeling dipped into his stomach without reasoning. He pushed passed it, a deep frown settling over his features before he pushed the door open with his foot.

"Drake?"

He stepped inside.

Red. 

So much red.

Drake's body leaned against the edge of the bathtub, cheek pressed firmly to his shoulder and both arms outstretched away from his body. One arm was in the water, turning the once clear liquid a horrific shade of pink, the other resting on the ledge of the tub, crimson oozing from the deep cut along his wrist and dripping onto the bathmat.

And for a moment he froze.

For a moment he was back in the league, his first kill, a small helpless rabbit, in front of him. It was bleeding, a sickening amount of blood leaking out from underneath it, staining the once snow-feathered fur scarlet. The pool lapped at his bare feet, and from behind him he could still feel Mother's eyes cold but pleased at the sight of her 4 year old's first bloodshed.

Then he was rushing forward, quickly finding several small towels that hung by the sink for drying hands, and pressing them to Drake's wrist. His phone was in his free hand, eyes still firmly locked on the hand still loosely floating in the water, and Grayson's number was pulled up and dialed without even thinking twice.

He picked up on the second ring, cheery voice sitting wrongly with the current situation, "Hey Lil' D! I just got on the highway so I'll be there soon!"

Damian's voice caught in his throat. What should he say? How should he say it? What would Grayson think?

He unconsciously squeezed the wrist in his grip, a groan hitting his ears and Drakes eyes fluttered open.

"Dami? Are you with Tim? Is he coming to the dinner tonight?"

Drake struggled to raise his head from his shoulder, instead rolling it back till his head rested against the back wall. Icy eyes stood out boldly against his pale skin, gaze glazed over and obviously confused as his eyebrows furrowed.

"Wha..." The teen's speech was slurred when he spoke and Damian only squeezed the towels at his wrists tighter, earning a short hiss of breath and a wince of pain.

"C...Call 911," Damian finally managed to force passed his lips, voice stuttering. Why was he stuttering? This was Drake. His enemy. He should be pleased, should be celebrating his easy demise.

Why did he call Grayson?

There was a noise of confusion on the other end of the line, phone on speaker near his foot on the tile flooring, "What? Damian you're not making any sense? Are you ok?"

His chest tightened at the words, at the obvious concern in his brothers voice, "D-Drakes bleeding-His wrists. Please! Please Richard! I don't know what to do!" Were there tears in his eyes? Surely not. There couldn't be. But when he looked down there were small droplets of water on Drake's arm.

A screech that Damian's mind paired with brakes before Grayson's voice got closer to the phone.

"Ok, ok buddy. It's ok," A pause. They both knew it wasn't ok, "It's going to be ok," Damian didn't comment on how the words sounded more for Grayson that Damian, but he let his brother continue, "I'm calling 911 ok? I want you to stay on the phone with me. Where is Tim?"

"H..." Damian couldn't get the words out, "Tub. Bathtub. The water..."

Is pink.

It's pink.

With Drake's blood.

"He's in the bathtub? Ok Damian, I need you to get him out of the water. Drag him out. Is there pressure on his wrists? Are you putting pressure on his wrists Damian?"

Was it always this hard to breath? Mother had done well in training him not to need air to finish a mission. This should be no problem.

But in order to get Drake out of the tub he would have to step closer. Have to step on the red mat what once might have been a pale blue. 

"Damian!" Grayson's voice was sharp, distinctive, orderly. It was the voice he used when he was Batman and Damian would go to far during patrol, or when he would catch Damian training at 4AM.

Damian was nodding before realizing Grayson couldn't see him, "Y...Yes."

From Grayson's end it sounded like the man was driving again, deep rumbles Damian could only associate with a car hitting his ears, "I'm on my way buddy, the police are on their way."

He nodded, kicking the phone a small ways away from him and looking back to Drake. The boy was still watching him with furrowed eyebrows, confusion lacing his features.

"Who...On the phone...?" He asked, glazed gaze flickering between Damian and the phone Grayson continued to speak from.

"Grayson," Damian answered, swallowing hard as he stood, leaning over the teen and hooking his arms under Drake's armpits.

Damian's chest ached with how light the teen was.

"What are you doing...?"

"I need to get you out of the water, you're bleeding out Drake." 

"Oh..." Drakes eyes closed for a moment, stuttering breaths coming with each inhale and exhale he tried to take, "That's ok..."

"It is not ok!" Damian snapped. From a few feet away he hears Grayson ask what was wrong.

 _Everything._ He wanted to say. To scream. _Everything is wrong._

Drake just nodded again, head rolling back against Damian's shoulder as he got him over the ledge of the tub and onto the floor. Damian tried not to focus on the pink water trailing down his arms, on the way his shoes were now soaked and sinking into the bathmat.

Drake didn't even shiver, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly once Damian resumed adding pressure to his wrists.

"You don't...have to...It's ok..."

Damian sent him a glare he wishes the older could see, "It is not ok. Grayson will be very upset to see you pass. Father will not be pleased."

He thinks Drake snorts, but there's not enough air in his lungs to make the sound prominent.

"They won't..." A pause where Tim turns just enough to look him in the eye, "You won't..."

Faintly he hears Grayson talking. But he can't tell if it's to him or Drake.

His lack of response seemed to be enough for Tim to groan, trying, and failing, to pull away from Damian's grasp, "Leave me alone...Please..."

Damian shakes his head. He will not. He cannot. Once again Grayson has turned into background noise, static in his ever present state. He thinks someone is knocking on a door from outside the room.

Drake's eyes grow wet with each failed movement, weak, broken sobs echoing throughout the bathroom.

"They all hate me...They don't need me..." He whispers, voice cracking. Damian feels him swallow hard against his shoulder, "I hate me too..."

His grip on the older tightens, "No one in the family hates you Drake."

The teen whimpers, tears rolling down his cheeks, "Please Damian...Please...I want to die...Please..."

He swears his heart nearly stops at the words. If- _when-_ Drake is fully conscious again, Damian hopes he won't remember any of this. If Drake knew what he was saying...

_You found him in the process of him trying to kill himself. These aren't lies. This is what Drake really thinks of himself._

Drake's voice cuts through his thoughts, "Everyone left...Everyone left and I couldn't take it...I don't want to be alone...I don't want to be alone!" The plea sounds desperate, and Drake lets out another choked sob.

Red starts to soak through the cloth against his wrists and Damian pulls Drake closer to his chest, lanky body spread awkwardly across his lap, "I will not leave you alone Timothy," Distantly, he hears footsteps enter the apartment, "You will not be left alone. That I promise."

There's a few seconds of silence, only filled with two pairs of breath, before Drake's eyes roll back and his body starts convulsing uncontrollably.

Damian feels all the air in his lungs leave in one desperate gasp before arms are wrapping around his waist and pulling him away from behind. He instantly begins screaming, Grayson's voice raising over the phone on the ground next to him.

"Unhand me!" He shouts, eyes wild and he claws at whatever skin he can find. A low growl rises up from his chest when several over shadowed figures crowd around Drake's body.

"Get him out of here!" One of them shouts to the one holding him, and Damian is dragged from the room kicking and screaming.

It's only a short while later, once Drake is loaded into the ambulance and Damian is being watched over by one of the men, who now has several scratch marks cover his face, that Richard arrives.

His brothers blue eyes are wide, and Damian can tell even from how far away he is that Richard has been crying.

The mans gaze searches for a whole minute before they land on him.

And Damian runs.

He easily pushes his way passed the man 'guarding' him, collapsing into Richard's arms and clinging to the taller mans shirt, gasping for breath.

"Breath baby, breath," A large hand runs along his back, another caressing the back of his head, and Damian sucks in breath after breath, forcing gulps of air down into his lungs before releasing it, "You made it in time. Bruce is with him now, he's going to be ok."

Damian thinks he nods. He's trembling in Richard's arms, barely even aware of being picked up and tucking him close to his chest.

"You did so good," Hot air hits his shoulder, sinking through the fabric of his shift and directly into his skin. It makes him shiver and think of how cold Drake's body had been when Damian had pulled him out of the water.

Pink water. Pink water. Red bathmat and pink water-

He cuts the train of thought off before it can get out of his control, "He can not be left alone Richard," Damian's voice is surprisingly steady, willingly curling into his brother's hold, "I promised."

Richard is nodding, pushing the bangs back from his forehead, "Ok buddy, ok. We won't leave him alone," He's gently rocked as he's carried to the car, "Lets get you home and cleaned up alright?"

He must nod again because the next thing he knows is he's being unbuckled from Richard's car and carried into the house. Up the stairs and into his room and the connecting bathroom.

The older man is careful about setting him on the counter top, about running a wet wag over his hands and arms. But all Damian sees is the red under his finger nails. In every crack and crevice of his skin. About how, if you had asked him a year ago, he would be cheering in joy at the sight of Drake attempting to end his own life in his bathroom.

"Dami..." Richard's voice is soft as it hits his ears and Damian's raises his eyes to look at the man in front of him.

Richard's hands caress his cheeks, thumb running at the skin just under his eyes, "Its ok to cry now," The blue eyes staring back at him shine with tears of their own, a sad smile pointed in his direction.

And cry Damian did. Slowly at first, Trails running down his cheeks and dropping off his chin, then harder and harder till he was full on sobbing in his bathroom, wet hiccups passing through his lips and fisted hands running against his eyes in a weak attempt to keep the tears away.

Richard's hands never leave him, his own face red and eyes puffy. When Damian's sobs finally turn to quiet shuddering gasps, Richard wipes the last few stay tears away with his thumbs.

"Are you ok with taking a shower by yourself?" Damian doesnt point out how he emphasizes the word _shower_ , and Damian shivers at the thought of a bath.

He tilts his forward just enough to pass as a nod and a kiss is pressed to his forehead.

"I'm going to call Bruce again alright? I'll be just outside the door."

Damian nods again and a second later his bathroom door is closing just enough to give him privacy, but open enough that if Damian called out Richard would be close enough to come to his aid.

Damian tried not to focus on how that fact brought him comfort.

A shower and a clean pair of cloths later, Damian exited his bathroom to find Richard pacing just outside the room, phone pressed to his ear.

"But the doctor said he was doing alright?" A pause, "And you haven't left his side right?" Another pause before Richard turns to look at him, tired eyes and persistent frown shifting into a gentle smile, "Hey bud, feeling a little better?"

He rubs the toe of his shoe into the carpet under his feet, eyes glancing at the phone in Richards hand before nodding, "May we go see Timothy now?"

A look of surprise flashed over Richard's features before he was clearing his throat and nodding, "Sure Lil' D, We can head there now if you want."

Damian nods, hands settling behind his back, "I shall go and wait in the car then while you are finishing your phone call," He leaves the conversation at that, just barely hearing Richard's quiet agreement before he leaves the house and buckles himself into the front seat of Richard's car.

The car ride over to the hospital is quiet, but Damian expected that. Richard's hands are tight on the steering wheel, and Damian reaches over to rest on of his hands on top of the older mans, simply letting out a huff of air as Richard smiles and holds his hand in return.

Then they are at the hospital, Richard's hand still in his, and Timothy is in front of him. He's pale, barely a few shades above the white sheets covering him, but his cheeks have returned to a healthier shade of pink than they were, and his wrists were bandaged up.

Father sits at his side, hand resting on Timothy's arm and Damian nods before settling on the teens other side, reaching forward to hold Timothy's hand in his free grasp.

Distantly he hears Richard and Father speaking of Timothy's health and what the doctor said about his condition, but all Damian can focus on is the warmth emanating from the hand in his, long fingers with chipped and bitten down nails loose against his.

Damian hums, tightens his grip. Feels Richard's thumb smooth over the back of his knuckles.

_I will keep my promise Timothy._

_You will not be left alone._

**Author's Note:**

> EYYYYY. So I've basically had this written since I wrote 'Someone Will Be There, That I Know' But I never got around to posting it till now for reasons not even I could tell you. But, here you are, the final part to the series unless at some point I want to add more. Please let me know if I missed anything, and enjoy!


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